


Sometimes there are no happy endings

by seanchaidh



Category: Star Trek XI
Genre: Divorce, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-18
Updated: 2013-04-18
Packaged: 2017-12-08 20:36:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,100
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/765759
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/seanchaidh/pseuds/seanchaidh
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Even happily ever after has its drawbacks.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sometimes there are no happy endings

**Author's Note:**

> From the bridge2sickbay prompt: Jocelyn, Joanna – Homemade Cookies

From the second the judge makes his verdict and gives everything to Jocelyn, she expects everything to magically change. They've been at this for four years, if she wants to be honest with herself, and it's finally come to the end. Leonard will go off and finally leave her alone, and she can start all over again.

Except there's Joanna. Someone has to explain the custody issue to her, and about the new changes in their lives. The last time, it was Leonard who told her why he was sleeping in the spare bedroom, and a part of Jocelyn wishes she knew exactly what was said so she could continue up on that.

But first, Leonard still needs to get his belongings out of the house. Her house, as of now.

She makes sure she's out with Joanna when Leonard packs up and removes his things; it's mid-August and Joanna begins the first grade in September. She needs new clothes, a so-called unbreakable padd, and a bookbag. The afternoon is fun and distracting, the new padd is blue, and Jocelyn almost forgets what's happening at home until they get back and she's making cookies when Joanna runs back into the kitchen.

"All of Daddy's things are gone!" she cries.

Jocelyn swallows hard, all the half-formed phrases she'd been planning to use fleeing at the sight of her daughter's striken face. She puts down the spoon and crouches down in front of Joanna, at the wide green eyes that look so much like Leonard's, and is about to tell her about the custody agreement when the doorchime rings.

Telling Joanna to wait right there, Jocelyn goes to answer, and she's surprised to see Leonard. She programmed the lock to change after he left, so of course he's ringing. He still looks angry, though not the white-faced fury she'd faced on the other side of the courtroom, and his arms are tightly crossed over his chest.

"Did you forget something?" she asks, keeping her tone polite. She doesn't want a fight.

"I just wanted to let you know that I've joined Starfleet," he announced, not meeting her gaze and staring somewhere past her shoulder. "I'm heading out of town in a few days to begin training, and I want to talk to my daughter first."

"Starfleet?" Jocelyn repeats, and she can't help the disbelief in her words. Leonard is so aviophobic, they haven't traveled by shuttle since their honeymoon and she'd held his head while he'd puked all the way to the moon. At the time, she hadn't minded, but that had changed quickly.

Leonard's jaw clenches. "I'll give you my forwarding address when I get there. Now could I *please* see Joanna?"

She holds up her hand first. "Yes, of course, but first... Leonard, I'm sorry."

"Little late for that," he snorts.

"Well, better now than never," she says, and it sounds weak even to her ears. "The thing is, the custody arrangement doesn't have to stay this way. It can change." Though how enlisting in Starfleet will help, she doesn't know. "But the fact remains that we have a daughter together, and that doesn't change."

"No." But Leonard is looking at her, and apparently listening. "It doesn't."

"Anyway, I'm making cookies," Jocelyn says, "and I'd appreciate the help. We can talk to Joanna about what today means."

It doesn't come out exactly the way she'd like. Five years of fighting and frustration are a hard obstacle to overcome, and she can see Leonard's shoulders tensing in reaction. She braces herself for another fight, and waits to see what Leonard will say.

There's a pause, then Leonard asks gruffly, "What kind of cookies?"

"Chocolate oatmeal," she says.

There's another long pause as Leonard stares at her, and Jocelyn feels strangely faint in the afternoon heat. The sound of the cicidas is rubbing against her nerves, and she can feel the sweat beginning to trickle down her back and beneath her bra. She's going to give him five more seconds before she rescinds her offer.

"Mama, why are you taking so long?" Joanna demands from the kitchen. Jocelyn heard footsteps behind her, and then there's a sudden cry of "daddy!" and Joanna's shoving past her and throwing herself into Leonard's arms.

"Hey, there, sweetpea," he greets, and hoists her up.

"Where the hell is your stuff?" she demands.

"Language, Joanna," Leonard chides, but from the twinkle that suddenly appears in his eyes, he's more than amused. Jocelyn twists her mouth so she can't quite smile, and looks at them. There's no mistaking which parent Joanna takes after, with Leonard's eyes and his dark hair, and sometimes Jocelyn wishes they weren't quite so similar. She'll regret it more in the years to come, she knows. "I promise I'll explain, but I hear that you two are making cookies."

Joanna nods slowly. "Mama just started."

"Why don't I give you two a hand?" Leonard looks straight at Jocelyn as he speaks.

It ends up being the best evening the three of them have spent together since Joanna was a toddler, even with the difficult topic. They explain the custody, and Leonard talks about Starfleet -- "but Daddy, you *hate* flying!" -- and what this will mean. Leonard stays for dinner, too, and it's nice. Jocelyn stays in the kitchen, tidying, as he puts Joanna to bed. She's more than aware that it's his last chance for a long time to come.

"Thanks," he says when he comes back down, and despite everything, Jocelyn still sees the anger in his eyes and the way it turns down the corners of his mouth when he faces her. Fair enough, she figures.

"I hope Starfleet works out for you," she tells him.

He shrugs. "We'll see."

"I hear they're always looking for doctors," she continues.

"Jocelyn, just stop it." His voice is weary, and he pushes his bangs off his forehead as he looks around the kitchen one more time. "I'm going to go. I'll be in touch."

"Here." She presses a small bundle of cookies into his hands, and as he stares down at them, Jocelyn shoves her own hands into her pockets. "For the road."

Leonard's smile is tight, and he mumbles a thanks before heading out. Jocelyn listens to his footsteps and to the front door closing, and sags against the counter. She's trembling at the sudden release of tension, and she just wants to sleep until she feels normal again. When she goes to make sure the door is locked, she finds the package of cookies sitting on the entryway table.

She leaves them there.


End file.
